Before Winter Comes
by Unholy Preacher
Summary: Hayate protects Helena from a certain British assassin, but he has a hidden agenda and Hayabusa is after him, but why?
1. Autumn leaves fell

Disclaimer: None of the characters in this story belong to me. They are the property of the people at Tecmo.  
  
The leaves fell around her golden hair, which swayed in every direction. It was the beginning of a beautiful New England autumn.  
  
She could have just asked her limo driver to drive her there, but when she woke that morning, Helena felt an impulse to jog the relatively long distance from her mansion to the family plot in the cemetery. She felt only a twinge of regret for doing so because of the cold, which now mercilessly lashed on her vulnerable skin, but the beauty of the autumn leaves showered by the morning sun overshadowed that.  
  
A car ran past her, and she stopped to catch her breath, taking the time to take in the lovely scenery surrounding her. Her green eyes suddenly caught sight of a few birds flying away from behind a thicket of thin-stemmed trees just off the side of the road. Looking more closely, she could see a small lake sparsely hidden behind them. She immediately walked towards it to investigate.  
  
Her curiosity was bountifully rewarded when she finally reached the source of that wonderment. The clear sparkling water from whence the birds flew was truly a sight to behold - enhanced by the gentle stepping of leaves on its surface.  
  
Helena closed her eyes and breathed in the air for the briefest of seconds. When she opened them again she was greeted with a pair of brown eyes, staring intently as if trying to tell her something.  
  
"Duck!"  
  
She stared back, confused, at him. That short moment of bewilderment was shattered by her body being shoved aside and the sound of a bullet ricocheting against a large rock on the ground. And also the sudden realization of what those eyes had meant.  
  
Another shot rang through near her, but before she could make sense of the situation, she felt herself being lifted off the ground, light as the leaves that were falling all around her. She could feel the cold air whipping about her as she and her companion almost flew out of that place of supposed peacefulness. They were traveling so fast that she couldn't see where they going until she lay on the ground staring hazily at the iron gates to her mansion.  
  
She hastily got up, wanting to demand an explanation from the man who had just helped her escape. But as her eyes reached his unconscious form on the ground, she could see his white clothing stained with a dark crimson that was also flowing on the asphalt. She hurried towards him and cradled his head. She recognized him as one of the contestants on the tournament she had participated in not so long ago.  
  
She turned her head and screamed for help from the servants inside her home. 


	2. Alliances, cold and just?

Elsewhere, a short distance away from the small lake, a woman slowly withdraws her rifle from its post. Silently she curses herself for failing once again. She had been following her target for days. Today was her most perfect opportunity, how could she have predicted the interference of that damned Japanese boy.  
  
Christie quickly shrugged the thoughts off. It wouldn't do her any good to mull over missed opportunities. It was best to start thinking about her next move. She picked apart the rifle and placed it carefully and hurriedly on a suitcase.  
  
"You'll never get her with him around."  
  
Instinctively, she took out a small knife from her right ankle, and turned quickly around to where the voice came from. She had wanted nothing more than to have thoughtlessly thrown the sharp blade at the intruder, but she was curious to know whom he was and what he was going to say.  
  
"I know you don't I?" She sharpened her eyes towards the silhouetted figure with his back towards the sun, which was getting much brighter as the day wore on. He had long brown hair, which was tied into a ponytail; he stood with his arms crossed. Christie pointed her knife threateningly at him.  
  
"I am Ryu Hayabusa." He began suddenly. "I think it's in our best interest that we work together as we have a somewhat similar goal."  
  
Christie raised an eyebrow. "I know who you are. You're the friend of that punk who just cost me my kill right now."  
  
The figure didn't move or say anything and she continued to wave her knife at him. "Well? What do you want?"  
  
"I already told you." He said calmly.  
  
"I heard you, but you'll forgive me if I find your proposal a bit hard to comprehend."  
  
"There's nothing confusing about it," he uncrossed his arms and began walking towards her, "both our enemies are obviously working together, it make sense that we combine our resources to kill them."  
  
She lowered her knife to her side. "Did I miss something, I thought Hayate, or something, was your buddy? What happened?"  
  
"I have my reasons." He snapped. "Look, you can't take on both of them alone, especially Hayate, you don't know him, I do."  
  
"Oh please, I can take your pal on." Christie interrupted him to save face, but she knew he was right. Ninjas, or whatever they were, were not easy to fight.  
  
Ryu, however, knew it would not do good to belittle her abilities and decided to take a different approach to the situation. "You are right. I did not mean to insult you, but it would be easier if you and I worked together. I'll take care of Hayate myself, that way you can concentrate on solely killing the woman." Ryu force a grin and extended his hand. "What do you say?"  
  
Christie stared at his hand, with no intention of taking it. She then looked up at him. "Why the hell should I trust you? You have to admit, it's a bit fishy that you would try to kill your friend."  
  
Ryu smiled. "I am a simple man, miss. If I wanted to stop you, I would do it right now. I would not do anything devious."  
  
Leaves fell on as she thought of what her next decision would be. The man had the right thought in mind to keep quiet while she did this. She looked up at the sky - at the otherwise colorful trees rendered black against the sun, and then she turned her gaze back at him. Tentatively, she took his still held out hand and squeezed it hard then looked directly into his eyes. "I still don't trust you." 


	3. Another alone again

Helena reclined on her favorite chair with a book in hand. It had been a long, confusing day for her, and the night finally came with its dark yet oddly comforting embrace.  
  
A doctor came to the mansion earlier and checked on her rescuer. He was not as badly hurt as she had first thought, and arranged for him to stay in her home until he recovered. She had given one of her maids orders to look after him, but for the most part she planned to take care of him herself. She wanted to know what his reason was for coming to her, so she wanted to be there at the first signs of recovery.  
  
She knew who he was, of course. Even before the first tournament she had entered, she had seen him before. He had been part, albeit innocently, of a past life that she tried hard to get away from. But everywhere she went, they always seemed to catch up to her. And now he was here -- poison, yet she could not help but be drawn back again.  
  
The book fell when her arm fell, and closed in upon itself. She struggled to keep her eyes open, but that only made them heavier. If she had a weakness, she knew it was this. She could hold her own against many a tough opponent, but she always gave in against the struggle from sleep. It wasn't brute force that could defeat her, it was the subtle, gentle seduction of the senses.  
  
Just as she had closed her eyes sweetly to the comfort of rest, she was woken up by the call of her own name. A servant had shouted it upstairs from where Hayate had been assigned. She got up immediately, her mind and body reacting as if programmed. She walked up the staircase, on the marble floor, but was stopped by the sight of the Japanese man leaning against the walls in the corridor, struggling to walk. The maid was behind him, hands over her mouth, not sure of what to do. His shirt was off, instead being covered by white bandages on where the gun shot wounds had been. He spotted her, and he went immediately towards her. But from what she could tell by his movements, he was still to weak, and as he fell to the floor just before her, his eyes rolled back and he called out her name.  
  
Helena called for the frightened maid. They both pulled him up, but he was deceptively heavy for a man with a relatively slight frame -- his dead weight being more than enough of a struggle for them as they carried him back to his room. Though down and weakened, Hayate was not totally unconscious. All the while, he mentioned her name over, trying desperately hard to talk. When they placed him back on the bed, Helena guessed his head wasn't as hazy, and he could now talk more coherently.  
  
"Helena...I...must...speak...with..." he said between sharp intakes of breath.  
  
He was sweating profusely and Helena got a towel and wiped his forehead and neck and shoulders. With a cold and as disinterested voice as she could make, she told him to shut up and calm down. Finally, after about ten minutes of this, he finally went quite and fell to sleep. Helena, too, was getting tired. And after a minute of making sure, she fell back to a nearby chair. She was exhausted, it was more than what her daily kinds of activity was usually like. The maid had left quietly, and after what seemed like hours of simply staring at him, she once again lost her struggle and drifted off to sleep.  
  
When she woke, it was already light. It passed through the glass panes filling the large room. She also noticed that she was not the only one awake. Her rescuer had his eyes wide open staring silently at her. Stretching her back and arms while still on the chair, she broke the silence. "How long have you been up?"  
  
"Not long." He answered, not taking his eyes off her.  
  
"And you didn't try to get up and leave like you did last night."  
  
"Well, I'm already where I need to be."  
  
Helena crossed her eyes in confusion, but then remembered last night. "Oh yes, you wanted to speak with me."  
  
Hayate nodded his head.  
  
She started to get up and stood at the foot of his bed. "Maybe later, right now you need to rest some more."  
  
"No!" He interrupted, and began to sit up. "The sooner I speak with you, the sooner I'll feel at ease."  
  
Helena raised an eyebrow. "Okay then, what about?"  
  
Hayate closed his eyes. "No, this isn't how I want to start it."  
  
Her mouth curved to a slight smile, amused.  
  
Her guest only sighed. "Who was that trying to kill you anyway?"  
  
Helena's face suddenly turned serious. "You don't know? And here I thought you just went around saving opera singers randomly."  
  
"No, I came here to see you. Then I saw a gun being pointed in your direction." Hayate paused a bit. "Who did you piss off anyway?"  
  
She fell silent to think. She had a fairly good idea about who would want her dead. "I don't know."  
  
"It's DOATEC isn't it?" She looked up to see Hayate looking straight into her eyes.  
  
It was her turn to sigh. "I don't know Hayate. Unlike you, my whole world doesn't revolve around fighting. I have a whole 'nother life outside some martial arts tournament."  
  
"He doesn't seem to think so." Hayate shot back. "He's still trying to draw you in."  
  
"Who are you talking about?"  
  
"Don't pretend you don't know what I'm talking about. You're not the only one whose life Donovan has screwed over."  
  
"Oh yes, you and your sister." Helena remembered about him. "How is she anyway?"  
  
Hayate remained silent. His eyes wandered down to the white sheets. He seemed to be pained by the question. At last he only whispered. "I don't know."  
  
She decided not to inquire anymore. It was a sore subject. She couldn't blame him really for not wanting to talk about it. She wondered what it's like to be going through what he did - to be hunting down your own sister.  
  
"Look, just stay here for a while." Helena said as she began heading out towards the doorway. "You're welcomed to stay as long as you like. And after you feel better, you can go do whatever it is you people do."  
  
As she left room, she could feel Hayate continue to stare at her. 


	4. Altogether in slumber

The weather was woefully oppressive. It was still mid-afternoon, yet the sky was blanketed with a dark rolling smog that engulfed the helpless sun. Helena looked up through the tinted windows of her car. The outside seemed to affect her mood. She didn't want it to, but just looking outside made her depressed. Wanting to get rid of the feeling, she turned her attention to the man beside her.  
  
Hayate had been with her for a more than couple of weeks. At first he just stayed in her house to recover from his wounds, but after a few days, he had been up and about already, helping here and there around her property. Although she didn't really take notice of it, he had slowly become integrated into her daily surroundings. He was still in the process of recovering, of course, but not in such grave a condition that he had withdrawn from physical activities. On the contrary, he had somehow taken it up upon himself to serve as some sort protector to her, always worrying about her safety. It was not at all unfounded, of course, as they had met during an attempt at her life.  
  
Although she could take herself in hand to hand combat situation, she had no inkling of an idea on how to protect herself from a killer hiding in a distance. So, after only a token objection, she gradually accepted his attempt at her protection. She, of course, eventually offered to pay him for his help, but he adamantly refused monetary payment, stating that having a place to stay and some food to eat while he recovered from his injuries were, in of itself, payment enough.  
  
Despite the incident at their meeting though, she had not been attacked again. She had hoped that Hayate's efforts were somehow responsible for this, but she knew better. Though she still remained amazingly calm after the incident, inside she had became as paranoid as the man seated next to her.  
  
She studies his profile for a second. Even when he was absorbed in his self-appointed responsibility, he always had a troubled look on his face. In relatively peaceful moments like these, that he had troubled thoughts were clearly evident. During the past few days, she had wanted to ask him about it, but she didn't want to pry, and she figured that he would come out to talk to her about it only when he was ready to.  
  
All the while she had stared at him, she did not speak a word. She was sure that he had felt her stare by now, and wondered how long he could continue to ignore her. It was only when she returned her attention back outside that she could hear him shift his head towards her. Now it was her turn to ignore his inspecting eyes. She was going to glance back at him once again and meet his stare, but after only about a minute, he had turned his head forward again.  
  
Outside, the most of the trees had already been stripped bare of their colorful leaves. All that was left were the worn, black, skeletal branches. Some of the trees, she noticed, took shapes men. When she was young, she used to call them "the tree people". The way their "bodies" were positioned always suggested to her imagination that they were suffering and in pain of burden. Some were contorted in a way that made them seem not human, but also not wholly physically improbable that she wouldn't wince at the thought of them becoming real. The pain that they must go through.  
  
The car made a sharp turn, and then proceeded to a slowly ascending hill. From her window, Helena could see the stone garden that populated the area. She guessed that the hill itself had become hollow by now, with all the memories buried and then forgotten. When the car made a full stop, Hayate exited from it first and she waited for him to decide it was alright to come out. She kept her gaze forward and didn't look up even when her car door opened and the cold gust of wind collided with her skin.  
  
Hurriedly, she took out a pair of sunglasses from her purse and put them on. She stepped outside to a waiting Hayate who, by excuse of duty, decided to occupy himself with the surrounding scenery. He followed her as she made her way across a plethora of shriveled flowers and headstones, of angels and crosses, of dead leaves. From behind them, she could hear the sound of her car's engine still running, as the driver had decided to stay inside with the heater on. In front of them, she could see no one else.  
  
She looked back to see Hayate looking down around them, with a somber sort of grimness that she had come to associate with him. She then smiled and spoke up "Cheer up Hayate, it's not good to be depressed when you're in the cemetery." She turned back once again to see Hayate looking at her in surprise. "Love lies here still." She added, "Somewhere."  
  
The man behind her looked at the expanse of seemingly endless rows of graves. "So love is dead?"  
  
"Yes." Helena kept her stride until before them was a stark and imposing headstone. Her companion inspected it subtly, but she could tell he was uneasy. There was no sign of love here. No dying flowers were laid bare before it. The cold letters engraved stared blankly at her. They held no meaning. She was looking for it though. As the time passed by like always, neither in a hurry nor slowing down, she searched hard to find it.  
  
It wasn't in the ground, so she looked up at the sky. The clouds gathered up along with the blowing of the wind. Without looking back, she stared down the horizon as traces of the sun finally began to set. "Let's go Hayate, before winter comes." 


End file.
